


The Problem with Store-Bought Dominance

by goldengan



Series: Holiday Prompt Fills for 2018 [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Sex, Bottom Hank, Bottom Hank Anderson, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Top Connor, Trans Character, Trans Connor, Trans character written by trans author, trans character written by trans man author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 09:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengan/pseuds/goldengan
Summary: Connor wants to try something new: being dominant. After all, Hank and Connor had been married for a few years; no harm in spicing things up every once in a while. Connor misunderstands what Hank wants, they fight over something silly, and Hank has no idea what to do.A holiday prompt fill that turned into top!Connor





	The Problem with Store-Bought Dominance

**Author's Note:**

> 7\. “No, this tree is perfect!”
> 
> * disclaimer *
> 
> As the tags have indicated, I wrote Connor with transman parts in mind. In the case of this fic I use the term “pussy” to describe Connor’s t dick. If that’s not your cup of tea, please do not read

The front door knob was freezing, making Hank’s fingers work hard to open the door quick. He stumbled inside and slammed the door shut behind him. Immediately a sense of dread made his blood colder than he had felt when he was outside. All at once he wondered, _Is this my house?_

Beautiful holiday adornments drew the eye away from the blank spaces, making the room feel a bit smaller, but it was all the better for it. Green and golden bobbles, beads, ornaments, all lead to a tree that was on a table nearest to the window. The lights on the tree were a simple, slow blinking white. The decorations on the tree were sparse and spread out. Stepping closer, Hank recognized the four Christmas ornaments Cole made before...

The back of Hank’s neck tingled just before he turned around to see Connor standing in the hallway, watching Hank with a small smile. It wasn’t his normal, soft eyed look, however. This felt piercing in the worst of ways. Hank had no idea what to make of it but... One step at a time.

“Connor... I was gone for,” Hank eyeballed his watch, “less than an hour!”

Connor blinked three times, tilted his head, that piercing look didn’t leave, “And?”

Hank huffed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Guess I forget what you androids are capable of.”

Connor put his hands behind his back, chest out and, yeah, it was a weird stance. Reminded Hank of when he first met his husband all those years ago. It wasn’t a comfort at all. “Do you like it?”

Hank lets out what he hopes is a breezy laugh, his eyes taking in the house once more, “It looks like it came straight out of a Christmas catalog. It’s practically perfect.”

Hank didn’t see the slight slide of agitation make it’s way through Connor’s features. If Hank saw it, he would have realized this wasn’t normal. “Practically perfect?”

“Yeah,” Hank’s facing the tree, the curtains framed the green with more white. Beautiful in its simplicity. “The tree’s a bit small and it’s kinda plain.”

Hank turns around, and is instantly surprised and overwhelmed at Connor’s face. 

His voice isn’t the same now. In fact, it’s clipped and short and nearly sounds like it’s coming from Nines, “Plain?”

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Not your fault though, the other ornaments are out in the garage.”

Connor wrinkles his nose and curls a lip, “Those were awful.”

To be fair, they kinda were. He’d got them from his mother. Very nineties, bauble-y, garish things. “Christmas trees are supposed to be just... full of stuff, Con. Even if it doesn’t look good.”

“I disagree.”

“I mean, just filled with dumb ornaments the kids make at school, and ornaments you get as gifts that say the year you got ‘em; all that jazz.”

“I put on the ornaments Cole made. Those are adorable.”

Yeah, Cole was always a perfectionist. Hank had absolutely no idea where he’d gotten that from.

“But the others were horrible. And what do you mean by “small”?”

“Oh,” Hank turns around again, facing the offending object, “I’m just used to big ole six footers, I guess.”

“Hank,” Connor stands next to him now, eyes on the tree, “I’m the only one who vacuums.”

Hank laughs brightly, hoping an arm around Connor’s shoulders and tucking him in under his chin will be the end of his strange mood. He’s stiff though, not willing to melt into him and kiss Hank’s neck like he normally would.

“There is nothing wrong with the tree I picked.”

“Eh,” Hank shrugged, “It’s all a matter of opinion. And it’s not that I don’t _like_ it, I just wouldn’t have picked it out myself.”

“Which means you don’t like it.”

“Connor,” Hank pulls away, hand still on his husbands shoulder so he can look him in the eyes, “Why you being so uptight about this? It’s just a little pine tree.”

Connor rolls his shoulder so Hank’s hand falls off, “No, this tree is perfect! I picked it out to match our needs and the space! There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it, I refuse to entertain any other ideas on the matter.”

“Okay,” Hank’s hands are up, he backs up a bit, thigh and hip hitting the couch, “Didn’t think this would be such a touchy subject.”

 _Well._ Hank laments as Connor’s features become harsher, _That didn’t help._

“Hank,” Connor crosses his arms, sweater creasing and folding up to match the furrow in his brow, “I’ve been planning this for years. Ever since we had our first Christmas together.”

“And, you know what,” Hank puts his hands down, slides them in his coat pockets. He had forgotten to take it off in all the hubbub and he felt a bit sweaty. Although that could have easily been because of this strange argument. Hank hated fighting with Connor. He always felt like garbage during and after, “you’re right, you did do a better job than I did. Don’t know why I doubt you; you’re always right, Con.”

Connor, shaking his head while he mouth slides open in disbelief, says, “Don’t you dare patronize me.” Turns his heel, and walks away.

~

It had been a few hours since their fight and Connor was still out in the garage. He did sometimes just stay out there doing god knows what, but Hank was pretty sure that, in this case, it was to cool off.

Usually by now, if the past few years of their being together were any indication, Connor would have come out to be sheepish and forlorn around the house until Hank felt so bad about the whole thing that he’d apologize until the sun rose again. 

It was such a silly fight. Maybe Hank should go talk to him now.

The door creaked open and snapped to a close. Hank couldn’t find Connor for a moment, but then saw him on the ground messing with the dryer, folded clothes and towels swaying on the top of it.

“Uh,” Hank said, trying to discern was Connor was doing but decided it better to ask, “whatcha up to?”

“I’ve been meaning to clean out the lint stuck further in the trap,” Connor said, still clipped.

Hank sighed. _Why’s he still upset?_ “Listen, baby,” Connor turned his head to look at Hank, one brow raised, “I really didn’t mean to start a fight. It really is beautiful out there. I’m just not...” Hank looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, “used to all that.”

Connor stood, wiping the lint and dust of Hank’s old sweat pants, “I don’t think I should have got as upset as I did.” When their eyes met, Hank saw Connor wasn’t as angry anymore. There was still a layer of... something underneath them. Something Hank never saw before. Not in Connor, anyway.

“I was pretty out of line, so,” Hank shrugged, lips curling up into a sort of sad grin, “I never want to make you upset, Con. You know that.”

“I know.” That look Connor had... It didn’t fall away.

“Uh... so are we okay?”

“Yes,” Connor nodded, “Under more normal circumstances, I don’t think I would have become quite as upset.”

“Wait,” Hank eyes crinkled, trying harder to read Connor, “What’re you talking about? What’s different?”

Connor blinked, tilted his head; a normal thing that Connor always did, but that look was still in his eyes, “You purchased it.”

It was Hank’s turn to blink, “Wait what?”

“The experience pack.”

_What?_

Like an avalanche, memories of last night fell and solidified in his mind. It was all one big, beautifully long blur. They had been in the living room, Connor had begun teasing and playing with Hank on the couch. He had been experimenting with being the “penetrating partner” — Connor’s words, obviously — and Hank was a bit overwhelmed by how soft Connor still was. He made a comment on it, Hank remembered as much. 

_”So you want me to be more assertive?”_

_”Yeah,” Hank panted, hands clenching onto the couch fabric with blunted nails with his head thrown back, neck cording, “don’t have to be... so soft with me, Con. Do what you want to me.”_

_”Are you sure?”_

_”Please.” Hank pleaded. His words a staccato to match his ever quickening pulse._

_In an instant, Connor grabbed Hank’s neck and held it an inch away from his face, “You sound so pretty when you beg.” And Hank was worried he’d cum right then and there._

“What?” Hank asked aloud this time.

“I purchased a pack to make me more assertive in sexual situations.” His tone and face were the same as earlier. “It seems the parameters have failed to understand what is and what isn’t a sexual situation.”

“Wait so that’s why you’ve been so bratty?”

Connor stepped close, nearly chest to chest, Hank felt the heat off of himself radiating back, “Was I bratty last night when I pushed you on your knees? Shoved your face into my pussy? Made you eat me out while barely letting you breathe?”

“Well...” Hank’s face turned red in what had to have been a millisecond. Blood at war of which end of his body to pool. 

Connor grabbed his neck again, but held his ear captive with his cold lips, “I hate what this add-on has done to me, but I love to see your face when I dominate you.” Connor craned his head back to see just that, “So red. Just like your cock is, I’ll bet.”

Accessing his inhuman strength, Connor lifted his husband and threw him on top of the dryer, “But until I uninstall, why don’t we have some fun?”

Connor made quick work of Hank’s zipper, sliding down the pants just enough to release Hank from between the folds of his boxer shorts. Pre-cum already leaking and gliding down his dick.

“Don’t make a sound.” Connor’s eyes didn’t leave Hank’s as he stepped out of the old sweatpants, “If you do, I’ll stop everything. Nod if you understand.”

Hank did, perhaps nodding too much, his hair falling into his eyes and in front of his face. 

“Good.” Connor lifted one foot behind Hank’s back and slammed his soaking wet and extremely tight tight _tight_ pussy onto Hank.

Hank’s eyes felt like they were going to simply fall out of his head. His bottom lip had to have already drawn blood from the bite of his teeth. A dam wanted to break, sound wanted to escape his mouth, but all he could do was breathe and hope nothing else fell with it.

Connor put up a relenting pace, slamming his pussy fast along Hank’s thick cock, letting himself grunt uncharacteristically between his own grit teeth. Hank felt at odds with himself, this didn’t sound or feel like his Connor. This man was, if Hank could be completely honest with himself, crass and boring and annoying. But, Jesus fuck, was this man good in the sack. Hank wondered for the briefest moments if this was cheating. He didn’t like what welled in his heart and it felt like the answer wasn’t a good one. 

Tears slid down his face and into his beard. Connor didn’t take it as an internal war, but something else, “You want to scream so badly don’t you, sweet thing? Tell me how much you want my pussy?” And his pace slowed, Hank’s neck corded and his breath shuddered. He was instantly worried this was a noise. Connor said not to make a noise. He wanted to cum so badly. He needed it.

“I’ll strike you a deal, baby,” Connor sounded gravely and gruff, almost a silly sound from his normally goofy voice, “You don’t comment about how you want me to be assertive when I fuck you, and I’ll let you make all the sounds you want.”

Hank didn’t let himself think on it, he just nodded. His lips pressed together tight and his brow furrowed. 

Connor put up a hand, caressing Hank’s face and Hank leaned into it, hungry for Connor’s touch. His husbands eyes glinted in the low light of the garage as Connor began that hurried pace again and said, “I want to hear you.”

Hank shoulders slumped as he let out moans, groans, pleases, gods, fuck me Connor fuck me fuck me fuck me’s. 

Connor leaned in close, his lips and teeth nibbling and licking along Hank’s neck and shoulder. Hank could feel the warm breaths from his husband puff over the slick left behind. 

Voice quiet, full of a feeling Hank hadn’t heard from him in almost twenty-four hours, Connor asked, “How badly do you want me, Hank? Because I want you. I always want you.” Connor put his lips to Hank’s ear once more, “So bad.”

And, god, he sounded like Connor then. It was a stupid thought — no matter what he was always Connor. He would always be his Connor. His gorgeous, caring, willing to do anything to make Hank happy, Connor. That amazing man that became his husband. 

“I need you.” Hank said between breaths. “Fuck me, baby.”

Connor’s pussy clenched around Hank’s cock, his shoulders slumped as he fell into Hank. The arms that were on the dryer were now on Hank as Connor said, in his normal over-fucked voice, “Use me.”

Hank didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Connor’s hips and pumped himself once, twice, three more times deep deep deep into his husband and, with a bite into synthetic skin, he spilled into Connor. 

~

It was Christmas Eve night. Connor and Hank were cuddled on the couch. Connor’s feet tucked under himself, head resting on Hank’s shoulder, Hank’s thighs far apart with Connor’s hand rising towards the center.

“I seriously cannot believe you thought I meant to buy a fuckin’... experience pack thing to make you more assertive instead of just being... assertive.”

Hank could feel Connor frown against his thin henley, “I told you, it is very difficult for me to be crass with you.”

“Con, you can still be assertive and be yourself.”

“It didn’t feel like that, at the time.”

Hank laughed, shaking his head, “As long as we’re in the comfort of our own home and away from prying eyes, you can take whatever you want from me.”

Time passed as Hank watched It’s a Wonderful Life and Connor’s hand stayed throughout. When a Hulu commercial came on, as it always does at the most annoying times, Hank’s groan turned into a moan as Connor grabbed at Hank’s dick through his pants.

**Author's Note:**

> Isn’t dom trans Connor just the greatest?
> 
> you can follow me on my twitter [goldenganjj](https://twitter.com/goldenganjj) for fic updates and fandom nonsense


End file.
